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Midway through a 400-kilometer journey from Lusaka, the calm capital of Zambia, and Livingstone, a well-known city replete with natural protectorate parks along the border of Zambia and Zimbabwe, I found myself struck by a miniature existential crisis. The day had been spent wonderfully, with me sampling shoka nyama (grilled street meat) and bananas right from the streets, and pestering two officers from the Zambia Tourism Agency, Agatha and Martha, with a plethora of questions akin to a 5-year-old. The…